


Grimes Family Bedtime Stories

by genevievedarcygranger



Series: Negan/Rick fics [5]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Bisexual Rick Grimes, Bottom Negan (Walking Dead), Daddy Kink, Dom Rick Grimes, Domestic, Family, Fluff, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pansexual Negan (Walking Dead), Romance, Sub Negan (Walking Dead), Top Rick Grimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 20:59:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13578834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievedarcygranger/pseuds/genevievedarcygranger
Summary: Really, Rick should have supervised Negan more. Who screws up a reading a story like Humpty Dumpty anyway? Or Snow White? Or The Ugly Duckling?





	Grimes Family Bedtime Stories

Rick Grimes loved his husband for many reason. Negan’s sense of humor was crude and crass, but he was still unexpectedly funny at times, and Rick enjoyed the laughter. Negan cooked dinner every night, which was a giant weight off of Rick’s shoulders since he was terrible at it. Negan had two jobs, but still had enough time to be home with Rick and the kids. His smile was beautiful and dimpled, he had handsome eyes, and while his mouth dripped with filth, he often said the sweetest things. Rick trusted Negan to handle everything, and Negan was devoted to his family.

Which is why Rick had no problem letting Negan read Judith her bedtime story every night unsupervised. Judith preferred Negan’s animated reading style to Rick’s, and she wanted the private time with just her and Papa bonding. Rick didn’t mind it. Usually that’s when he’d go handle the bills while the house was quiet.

And Negan, of course, loved this fatherly duty. There weren’t many things that Judith preferred Negan over Rick for. Rick had to tie her shoes, Rick gave her piggy back rides, Rick played dress up at the tea parties (and Negan didn’t envy his husband for that). But Negan was the one-man theatre every night that had Judith ooh-ing and aw-ing before she yawned, sleepy eyes drooping shut from exhaustion and dreaming sweet and pleasant dreams. Besides that, Negan loved spouting off at the mouth and veering off course of the stories, making up his own. Gave him a chance to stretch the creative muscles in his brain.

~

Really, Rick should have supervised Negan more. But he never had a reason to until the school called him one day to had a talk about Judith. Negan wouldn’t have been able to come to the meeting with the teachers since there was going to be a baseball game at the high school – Carl would also be attending that, too. So, it was just Rick that went to the elementary school to meet Judith’s teacher: Ms. Lemons. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Grimes,” Ms. Lemons welcomed him to her classroom.

It was the standard first grade classroom with macaroni arts and crafts and drawings covering the walls next to posters that explained concepts like when to use a period or a question mark. All of the other children had already been dismissed but Judith was still there, docilly stacking blocks in the corner, looking bored. She looked up when Rick entered and smiled at him. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Hey, Judy,” Rick greeted her softly and after shaking the teacher’s hand went over and knelt next to Judith. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, stroking her blonde hair out of her face. It was getting darker every day. Soon she’s be a brunette, a regular Grimes. “Before I talk to Ms. Lemons, is there anything you want to tell me, sweetheart?”

Judith tilted her head at him. “No, Daddy.” Then she went back to her blocks, looking so innocent that Rick had to wonder why he was called to begin with. In her previous classes, Judith had never been a troublemaker before. At home she was a perfect saint, with temper tantrums few and far in between. Of course, it helped that everyone doted on her and spoiled her, but Rick didn’t think she was a bad kid at all. Compared to how Carl had been at her age, she was a walk in the park. Rick was grateful for the blessing.

Kissing the crown of her hair one last time, Rick climbed back to his feet and moved over to Ms. Lemon’s desk. “So, what’s all this about, Ms. Lemons?”

“You can call me Olivia, Mr. Grimes.”

“Rick,” he corrected her.

“Rick,” she amended, and gestured for him to take a seat. He took a doubtful look at the small desk and chose to sat on top of it. Olivia didn’t comment on it, and instead just dove right in. “I’ll be honest with you, Rick, in class, Judith is absolutely perfect. But,” Olivia swiped nervously at her glasses, “Some of the assignments she completes are troubling to say the least.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Olivia shifted nervously at her desk, stalling for time by shuffling papers and clearing her throat. “At first, I thought it was innocent mistakes. Misspellings, things of that nature. But, after I talked with Judith about it, I realized that it was actually purposeful.” Olivia passed a stack of papers towards Rick and he reached across the desk to take it.

He glanced at Olivia’s anxious face once and then checked over his shoulder for Judith – still playing with blocks. Then he steeled himself, and flipped through the papers. They were the standard assignments with the big box for a picture and then the space underneath for a sentence. The space had the lines and dotted lines so that Judith could differentiate between lowercase and uppercase letters. The first picture was of a crudely drawn duck, colored black with a yellow beak and yellow feet. At first, Rick struggled to read the caption, and when he did, he choked on his spit.

The Fugly Dukling is Sad cus it is Fugly.

All the S’s were backwards, and it was misspelled – but fugly? Rick had a bad feeling that he knew exactly why Ms. Olivia Lemons wanted a meeting with him. Swallowing his spit, Rick flipped to the next page. It was two women in dresses – not princesses, he didn’t think, because they didn’t have crowns and they looked really ugly. Ugly on purpose, he imagined. But while they’re hands were hidden in their big bell sleeves, peeping out from under their skirts were nubs for feet, spurting blood. Rick knew it was blood because Judith had taken the time to color it red in addition to scribbling their dresses orange and purple.

The Shite Step-Sisters cood not fit their Fat Fuking Feet in the Glass Slipper.

The next page was of Snow White with X’s for eyes and her tongue sticking out. Her apple had a chunk missing and was colored black. Rick only knew it was Snow White because of the caption.

Dum Ass Milke White ate the Poyson Apple

There were more pages, but Rick didn’t want to look. This reeked of Negan, and Rick shook his head. He had thought that he handled this with Negan after that unfortunate incident at the Greene Farm.

~

It had been a birthday party for Maggie and Glenn’s son Hershel. Judith had been playing one of the farm games with Beth’s help, but she was having trouble doing it. It was cornhole – something that shouldn’t have been so frustrating for Judith – but it was and she’d gotten in a snit about it since she couldn’t manage to make any points. Once Judith’s frustration had reached its peak, she stopped her foot and angrily muttered with a huff, “This stupid game is too hard! It’s as hard as owl pecker!” Then she crossed her arms over her chest and frowned, brow lowered and furrowed into a terrible pout.

Beth had colored tomato red and immediately called Rick over to handle it, unsure of what to do. When she explained it, Rick blushed just as red, and pulled Judith aside. “Judith, why did you say that?” He asked her slowly, carefully.

“That’s what Papa says when things get too hard.”

Rick had to bite his tongue before he could ask what kind of things. He was too afraid of what her answer might be. Instead he asked her, “Judith, what do you think that is?”

“Think what is?” She asked him, so sweet and innocent, “Owl pecker?”

This time, Rick really did bite the inside of his cheek. “Yes, Judith, that.”

“It’s just the beak.” Judith tapped her nose and then Rick’s. He had to fight back a smile.

“Okay, Judy, you can’t say that anymore.”

That started a whole argument where Judith’s main protest was, “But Papa says it!”

Then a week later when Judith was on a playdate with Andre, she had tattled on him to Michonne for saying woodpecker.

~

Shaking his head, Rick pulled himself out of his thoughts as he looked back up at Olivia. Across from him, she was gnawing at her lower lip, looking ashamed as if she had been the one to teach Judith these things. But Rick knew better. “I’m sorry, Olivia, I had no idea that this was happening.”

“Had this not happened before?”

“Well, I thought that we had handled it the first time, but evidently not,” Rick sighed and passed his hand over his face. Then, another thought struck him. “Why are the shite step sisters missing feet?”

“Oh, she pronounced that as ‘shitty’, Rick,” Olivia whispered to him tightly, eyes sliding over to Judith. “And I don’t know, sir. That’s not the way I tell the story. Or Disney for that matter.”

Negan. Rick rubbed his eyes again. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Olivia. I’ll handle this.” He stood up and swung around to collect Judith, and immediately groaned.

Bored with the blocks, Judith decided to draw on the board instead. She drew a chicken but with a fan of feathers that signaled it was a rooster. That would have been fine except she decided to write next to it Big Cok.

Rick knew exactly when Ms. Lemons saw it, because her heard her small gasp behind him. “Judith, why did you do that?”

“You don’t think it’s pretty, Daddy?” Judith took one of the red markers and filled in the feathers on the tail, meticulous with her details.

“Where did you learn to call it that?”

“It’s just a cock.” Judith switched to the blue marker. “Mr. Hershel has them on his farm. They wake up the other animals in the morning.”

“Judith, that’s called a rooster,” Ms. Lemons said this time.

“Papa calls it a cock.” Judith dutifully recited, “Papa likes pretty cocks.”

And Rick blushed furiously, and apologized to Ms. Lemons profusely before he scooped Judith up in his arms, grabbed her backpack from her cubby, and hurried out the door.

~

In the car, Rick buckled Judith into her booster seat – she was very small for her age, though smarter than most kids. Once they started the traffic jam packed commute home, Rick asked Judith to tell him a story.

“What kind of story?”

“How about Cinderella? She’s my favorite princess, Judy.” Rick hoped that that wouldn’t come back to bite him during one of their tea party sessions.

“I thought I was your favorite princess, Daddy,” Judith said with a pout and then she laughed. Rick glanced at her in the rear-view mirror and wondered just when the hell did she become so much like Negan. “Okay Daddy, so Cinderella’s parents died, so she lived with her stepmother and shitty stepsisters.”

“Wicked,” Rick said, pressing a little too firmly on the brake at the red light. Twisting his head around, Rick told her, “They’re supposed to be the wicked stepsisters.”

“That’s not how Papa told me the story, Daddy.” Judith shook her finger at him, and Rick blinked before he faced forward again.

He tried a different tactic. “That’s not how the Disney movie goes.”

“There’s too much singing in that. I don’t like it.” Rick wrinkled his nose. Since when did his daughter become so weird? Probably when she started to become like Negan.

“When did Papa tell you this story?”

“It was one of the stories for bedtime, Daddy.” Judith looked out the window and swung her feet, kicking the chair in front of her in her boredom. “Those stories are a lot of fun. You should come listen sometime.”

“Maybe I will,” Rick hummed thoughtfully, “how about tonight?”

“That would be great, Daddy!” Judith beamed at him from the backseat. “Tonight, Papa is gonna tell me about Humpty Dumpty.”

Rick could only imagine what Negan would twist about that story. “Okay, Judy, finish telling me about Cinderella. We won’t be home for another thirty minutes in this traffic.”

Judith let out an exaggerated groan and then began her tale again. “Cinderella lived with her stepmother and shitty stepsisters.”

“Wicked.”

“Who’s telling the story here, Daddy?”

With a sigh, Rick shook his head and stepped on the gas as the light finally turned green. Looks like this had to be handled straight at the top with Negan. Of course, Rick had told Negan countless times not to talk that way, but Negan slipped up – normally when he was trying to cheer someone up. And if Negan dropping an f-bomb dried Judith’s tears, then Rick would let it go.

~

When Negan and Carl finally came home, Rick was in the kitchen with Judith. They were attempted to make a banana pudding following the instructions that came on the Vanilla Wafer box. Judith was cutting the bananas with a plastic knife, but she was eating more than she was cutting – and her cuts turned more into mashing.

“Honey, I’m home!” Negan called, voice ringing through the house. Carl made a mad dash upstairs, and Rick let him, figuring he’d call him down for dinner when it’s ready.

“We’re in the kitchen, Negan!” Rick called back.

“The kitchen? Oh, no, Rick. If you were hungry, you could’ve called and I would’ve picked up some pizza or some shit,” Negan said as he entered the kitchen, looking a little tired but very pleased with himself. “We fucking won.”

Putting his hands on his hips, Rick nodded towards the kitchen table where Judith was chopping up bananas. Immediately, Negan looked contrite. “Sorry, Rick, baby,” he whispered to Rick before he kissed him as a sincerer way of expressing his apology.

“Where’s my kiss?” Judith shrieked from the kitchen table, slamming the flat of her palms about the table top as she impatiently bounced up and down and waited for Negan.

“Of course, little Angel, how could I forget about you?” Negan teased and scooped Judith up for a whiskery kiss on her cheek that had her squealing with happiness. Rick smiled, melting at how Negan became such a cuddly papa bear with her. Hence, why Judith chose to call him that.

Hitching Judith up higher on his hip, Negan sat down at the table with her so that she could sit across his lap. “So, what are we cooking, good-looking?”

“Banana pudding!” Judith said so excitedly, reaching for her plastic knife and paper plate of banana mush.

“That sounds delicious, Judy,” Negan said so animatedly, bouncing her on his knee. “And what is for dinner?”

“Leftovers,” Rick answered this time and explained, “We don’t need to order takeout more than once a week, and we already had Chinese this week.”

Negan smiled at him, proud. Of course, he was proud. Negan was a gym teacher, and it wasn’t until he and Rick started dating that Rick started to change his eating habits. It had scandalized Negan to have a fridge full of frozen pizza rolls and to be on a first-name basis with the pizza boy Glenn.

“Papa, you want to help me cut the bananas?” Judith asked, batting her eyelashes.

“Of course, my little Angel.” Negan took the plastic knife from her and began to cut the banana into neat and even slices, taking the task assigned to him by the first grader very seriously. “You know, Judy, bananas are for swingers,” Negan said so nonchalantly, glancing over at Rick as he said it. Rick narrowed his eyes at him, but Negan just popped a slice of banana in his mouth and impishly winked.

“What are swingers?” Judith asked and then shoved a slice of banana in her own mouth.

Without missing a beat, Negan had a ready answer for her. “Well, a swinger is like a monkey. Monkeys swing from vine to vine. They’re swingers.”

Inquisitive as all children are, Judith asked around her mouthful of banana, “Can other animals be swingers?”

“I guess so,” Negan seemed to seriously consider her question. “Sloths maybe. Probably just party animals, though.”

“Likes asses? Pin the tail on the ass?”

Rick slammed his knee into the cabinet, the sound loud enough to startle Negan and Judith. “Donkeys,” Rick croaked through his pain, “They’re called donkeys, Judith.”

Judith frowned, confused. “But Papa always calls them asses.”

“Mr. Hershel doesn’t run an ass farm, Judith.” Rick couldn’t believe that he had to say that out loud, it sounded so damn ridiculous. Over Judith’s head, he could see Negan snickering to himself. “Mr. Hershel has donkeys on his farm.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Judith said, blinding accepting the answer. And Rick sighed with relief, grateful that she didn’t push any further.

~

That night when Negan took Judith to bed, Rick was unable to join at first since he had a call from work. But that ended up working in his favor because he wanted to catch Negan in the genuine act. Sneaking up to Judith’s room, Rick tried his best to be quiet and listen. It wasn’t very hard to do since Negan’s theatrical voice carried down the hall.

“Alright, little Angel, you said you wanted Humpty Dumpty tonight? Okay, well, Humpty Dumpty was an egg. Just a regular egg. Not hardboiled, not golden, not an Easter egg, not a rotten egg. He was just an egg – but a king of eggs who could walk and talk and shit. He was the size of a fucking watermelon and had arms and legs and shit, and a big mouth and eyes. He wore really nice fucking clothes and had a kingly golden crown.”

From where he lingered outside the door, Rick shook his head, barely managing not to snort at Negan’s antics.

“Anyway, so Humpty fucking Dumpty sat on a wall. I don’t know fucking why. To survey his kingdom? It wasn’t a regular little wall. It was a big fucking wall. Like Great Wall of China kind of fucking big. So why the fuck would he want to sit on that fucking wall, right Judy? That’s damn dangerous. Don’t ever let me or your Daddy catch you doing that stupid shit, okay, baby?”

“Okay, Papa, but the story?” Judith patiently reminded Negan with a high-pitched girlish giggle.

“That’s right, Angel. So Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, and it’s a little fucking unstable for him since he’s round like an egg, you know? So, he loses his balance and he fucking,” Negan lets out a long whistle that rings in Rick’s ears, “falls. A big fucking fall and he lands on the ground with a crack and splat. Suddenly there’s yolk and eggy bits everywhere.”

“Like that soup you and Daddy eat when we order Chinese?”

Negan guffaws, and Rick wants to chuckle, too. “It’s exactly like egg drop soup, Angel. You’re too damn smart for you own good.”

“I’m a smartass?”

“That’s right, Angel. Just a little smartie and I’m a big dumbie.”

“No, you’re not, Papa. You tell the best stories.”

“Thank you, Judy.”

In spite of himself, Rick smiled at nothing. Negan was as good as being a dad as he was at being a husband. Rick couldn’t hope for anything more. And at least the stories he told didn’t give Judith nightmares. Still, Rick couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. It seemed at times that his own children preferred Negan over him.

“So, what happened next, Papa?”

“Well, Angel, they called for all the king’s horses and all the king’s men to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.” Negan huffed, “Fuck if I know why they asked for horses to do that. They didn’t even ask for doctors. Why didn’t they ask for king’s women or maybe like the children to do it, though? They have smaller hands, don’t they? Nimble and suited for the job.”

“I don’t wanna touch any icky egg yolk, Papa,” Judith yawned.

Chuckling softly, Negan said with obvious fondness, “You’re right, Angel.”

With that, Rick gently pushed open the door. Negan had climbed into bed with Judith, her cuddling against him with her stuffed rabbit tucked in between them. She was under the blanket, though, while Negan was sprawled on top. The sight made Rick smile, but then as he focused on Negan was propped up against the pillows, Rick’s mine briefly went elsewhere. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat as Negan’s knowing eyes met his with a self-satisfied smirk.

“You missed the story, Daddy,” Judith said, almost a whine.

“Oh, no I didn’t, Judy. I could hear you and Papa giggling all the way from the kitchen.”

Judith giggled, and then patted her blankets. “Why don’t you and Papa sleep with me tonight?”

“Nice try, Angel, but if we had a sleepover with you, we’d never sleep,” Negan said, and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“Papa’s right, Judy,” Rick agreed and slid his eyes down Negan’s long, long legs clad in camo print pajama pants. “Besides, Papa and I have something we have to talk about.”

“Is it about the meeting with Ms. Lemons today?” Judith said somewhat shyly, avoiding Rick’s eyes as she unnecessarily fussed with her rabbit’s floppy ears.

Immediately, Negan’s head snapped toward Rick, and Rick couldn’t tell if the look on his face was concern for Judith or his own guilt. “That’s right, Judy.”

“So, what was wrong with the story Papa told me tonight, Daddy?” Judith stuck out her bottom lip, but Rick could tell the difference from what was sincere and what was crocodile tears.

“Well, firstly,” Rick looked pointedly at Negan, “it doesn’t say anywhere in the rhyme that Humpty Dumpty was an egg.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“Negan,” Rick chided, and then sighed. “That is exactly what we have to talk about.” He grabbed Negan’s hand and helped him to his feet. Brushing past Negan, Rick bent and pressed a kiss to Judith’s rabbit’s nose and then Judith’s forehead. “Goodnight, Judith. I love you.”

“Night night, Daddy. Love you.”

Then Negan curved his long, lean body over and kissed Judith’s forehead, too. “Sweet dreams, Angel. I’m taking you and Carl to school tomorrow, okay? What would you like in your lunch.”

Judith’s thick eyelashes fluttered as she struggled to keep her eyes open. “Ham sandwich.”

“No crust?”

“No crust.”

“Okay, Angel. I’ll put an apple and Sunny D in there, too, okay?”

“Okay, Papa. Night night. Love you.”

“I love you, too, Angel.”

And then Negan was ushering Rick towards the door, a hand at the small of his back. Before they were even out of Judith’s room, though, Negan’s hand slipped down and pinched Rick’s rear, causing Rick to jump and twist around indignantly.

Once they were out of Judith’s room, Negan slapped Rick’s bottom instead, and Rick couldn’t hold back his hiss.

“Negan, can’t you control yourself for one minute?” With a little more force than intended, Rick closed Judith’s door with a firm click.

“Around you, baby?” Negan smiled, the sight too bright for night time. “Fucking never.”

Shaking his head, Rick went to the master bedroom, Negan nipping at his heels as he followed close as a shadow.

“So, what was the meeting with Judith’s teacher for?”

Ears perking at Negan’s nervous inflection in his voice, Rick looked over his shoulder at Negan as he paused halfway down the hallway. “Do you know Ms. Olivia Lemons?”

“I, uh, may have met her a couple of times dropping Judith off and picking her up.” Negan shifted from foot to foot. “The last time we ran into each other I nearly made her cry.”

“Negan!”

“She was trying to tell me that Judith’s drawings are bad. She’s just a fucking kid. Judith can’t be a goddamned Van Gogh now.”

“Negan, that’s not what she was talking about.” Rick swept into the bedroom and waited for Negan to follow. Unlike Negan, Rick had not changed into his pajamas yet. He did so now as Negan wandered into the bathroom to brush his teeth. “Ms. Lemons called me to a meeting today to discuss Judith’s drawings. It’s not that they’re bad drawings, Negan, it’s the stuff and things in her drawings.”

Mumbling around his toothbrush with a frothy mouth, Negan asked with a snort, “What kind of stuff and things?” He rolled his eyes.

“Oh,” Rick paused in dressing, hands on his hips with his white shirt fisted in his hand, “Just the normal things. Shitty step sisters with no feet. A dead Milky White. The Fugly Duckling.”

Negan choked on his toothpaste and quickly hacked into the sink. Rick didn’t wait for him to finish before he continued, “Negan, we talked about this. I don’t mind your language much, but you have to tamp it down on Judith. You know at this age she’s like a sponge, and you’re her favorite, so of course she’s going to imitate you however she can. Please try and control it around Judith at least. Carl’s already got a mouth on his as it is.”

Recovered from his fit, Negan wiped his mouth on the hand towel and then stepped close to Rick, arms wrapping around the man’s naked waist. “I seem to recall that you have a fucking mouth on you, too.” Negan’s head dipped down and he placed a ticklish, whiskery kiss on Rick’s neck, causing him to shiver and nearly melt into Negan’s arms.

Pushing him away so that he could think, Rick quickly pulled on his shirt. “Negan, be serious for me, hon.”

Holding up his hands, Negan conceded. “Alright, alright, Rick. I’ll try and be better for Judith. I just figured that since ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’ wasn’t her first word, we were in the clear. That was my mistake. I didn’t realize I was her fucking favorite.”

At that, Rick snorted, doubtful, and moved to his side of the bed. On his bedside table was his silver watch and he placed his silver wedding ring next to it. He pulled away the decorative pillows and stacked them at the end of the bed, years of habit from being with Lori still with him. Then he peeled away the covers and climbed in.

“What? What was that fucking snort for, baby?”

Negan followed suit, removing his wedding ring and placing it next to his black framed reading glasses. He tossed the decorative pillows a little more haphazardly than Rick did, and when he pulled back the blankets, he shoved the top cover down the bed. Negan got warm at night – especially spooning up next to Rick – and didn’t like to wake up in a sweat. The sheet on Negan’s side was untucked, too. He liked for his feet to have mobility, and that meant on more than once occasion that he’s accidentally kicked Rick out of the bed. Too many years of sleeping like a lonely bachelor hasn’t melted away yet, but Rick hoped that in time it would.

“It’s nothing, Negan. Let’s just go to sleep.” Rick rolled on his side, facing away from Negan, and switched off his lamp.

Switching off his lamp, too, Negan curled up against Rick’s rigid back, molding himself around his husband. “Please don’t go to sleep angry at me, Rick, baby. Talk to me. Tell me what I did wrong.” Negan placed a chaste kiss on the back of Rick’s neck.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Negan,” Rick sighed and pulled and Negan’s arm around his waist tighter, interlocking their fingers. He raised Negan’s hand up to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. Tattooed on this hand was Lucy – a letter on each finger. Rick didn’t begrudge Negan’s deceased wife any more than Negan begrudged Lori. They moved past that quickly.

“Then what is it, Rick?” Negan pillowed his chin on Rick’s shoulder and cupped his hand over Rick’s heart, reassured by the steady thump-thump.

“You are Judy’s favorite, you know?” Rick tightly whispered into the dark.

There was a pause before Negan replied, voice low and not a hint of teasing in his tone. “No, I really didn’t, Rick. I see the way she looks at you.”

Rick’s tone is flat now with blatant disbelief. “And how does she look at me?”

“The same fucking way I look at you.” Negan gently urged Rick to roll on his back, and Rick complied. Then Negan cupped Rick’s chin in his hand, staring deeply into the man’s blue eyes. “With fucking love and adoration. Her Daddy can do no wrong.” Negan’s thumb traced over Rick’s bottom lip. “And neither can my Daddy.”

Rick rolled his eyes, but leaned up to kiss Negan anyway. And there wasn’t much more talking or disagreeing after that.

~

The next morning at breakfast, Rick was at the table eating the pancakes that Negan whipped up. It was just the two of them so far since Carl preferred to sleep in and eat breakfast at school with his friends, and Judith was still making her bed, one of her very few chores but a chore she took seriously nonetheless. Lori would have been proud.

When Judith skipped into the kitchen, she didn’t waste any time kissing Rick’s hairy cheek. “Morning, Daddy.” She slid into her seat at the table, waiting to be served by Negan like the princess she was. “Morning, Papa.”

“Morning, Princess,” Rick said, and started making Judith’s plate.

“Morning, Angel,” Negan said and started making Judith’s chocolate milk. “How did you sleep last night? Visions of scrambled eggs dance in your head?” Negan chuckled, nodding toward the bowl of fluffy, yellow scrambled eggs on the table. Rick scooped up a spoon full and added it on Judith’s plate between the strawberries and syrup covered, buttery pancake.

“I dreamed that we went to Disney World actually!” Judith began, and then continued to ramble about her nonsensical dreams. Rick and Negan listened dutifully to her as they ate. But then just as Rick took a rather large bite of his sausage, Judith said something surprising. “Did Daddy tell you a scary bedtime story, Papa?”

“No, Judith,” Negan said blithely, not picking up on it. Rick, however, had a tickle of a memory in the back of his mind of a similar breakfast conversation with Carl and Lori. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, I heard you call ‘Daddy’ a lot. That’s what I do when I’m scared, too.”

Rick choked on his sausage, and Negan snorted coffee out of his nose, and Judith frowned around her forkful of pancake as she wandered why Papa was laughing so hard and Daddy was stammering so much.

~

Later on, at work – a slow day at the police station filling out paper work – Rick didn’t expect to receive a call, but when he did, it was from Judith’s school – again. And during the phone call, he blushed and sputtered as much as he did at breakfast that morning. When he hung up, he immediately called Negan. He wasn’t going to handle this one; Negan could. It was his fault anyway.

“Hey, baby,” Negan said so brightly once he picked up, “I wasn’t expecting to be called during fifth period, but I’m not gonna fucking complain.”

Rick didn’t waste any time, nervously scratching his beard. “Negan, you have to go to a meeting with Ms. Lemons this afternoon. It’s about Judith, again.”

“Shit, what did she do? Draw a picture of Humpty Fucking Dumpty getting his ass scrambled by horses?”

“No, Negan.” Rick tiredly ran his hand over his face, but he couldn’t keep the low thread of humor out of his voice. “She pinched Ms. Lemons’ bottom.”

Negan barked a laugh into the phone, and it was so loud that Rick jerked the phone away in shock. But he should have known that Negan wouldn’t take it seriously. “Well, fuck. Why the hell would she do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know Negan. Maybe it has something to do with last night?”

The next time Rick heard Negan’s voice, he couldn’t detect any laughter into it. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll handle this one.”

“Thank you, hon.”

“You’re fucking welcome, Daddy.”

“Shut up, Negan.”


End file.
